In Transit
by Sei-chan-1999
Summary: And before he could relish that strange feeling for even a heart beat, he was free falling into the new world that waited for him below…


**Title: In Transit**

 **By: Sei-chan-1999/Darkest Symphony**

 **Summary: And before he could relish that strange feeling for even a heart beat, he was free falling into the new world that waited for him below…**

 **Rating: T Warning: Past life Universe. Rated for some implied adult themes, mentions of death and mental illness.**

XXX

Luka learns that there is a kinder word for betrayal.

Defection.

It insinuates a choice; free will that allows one to move to the enemy camp because of an ideological difference.

Betrayal, on the other hand, is nothing more than a filthy sin.

He is nothing more than a grain of sand that has traveled a Universe in the shape of an unforgiving hourglass. He was forced from the dizzying height of his old life into the bottle-neck of a place between the two dimensions and there, pressed in from all sides and nearly suffocating from his own terror and doubt and uncertainty, a soldier to no one but himself…

…He was free.

Before Luka could relish that strange feeling for even a heart beat, he was free falling into the new world that waited for him below.

XXX

There's a girl who stands in the far distance, the evening wind blowing long fair hair into her face. She's quiet and her head is bowed, hands clasped together. The sun has set but it's not quite dark yet, the gloomy blue sky slashed through with violent red strips and Luka feels like every feeble star coming to life is watching nothing but the two of them draw closer.

For a terrible moment, he is sure that she will tell him that it was all a game and nothing more; that he was played like a sacrifice or even worse, a joke and that there is nothing left for him in either world now.

The girl hears his footsteps and looks up quickly.

Those small lips are parted in stunned disbelief for an instant. Then, she throws her arms out towards him in a moment of eagerness and the child-like smile spreading across her face chases away the very blackness closing in.

Luka understands then that he never had anything to fear.

She runs forward as fast as she can, unmindful of her long dress getting stained and tousled hair. She's a little unsteady, but that doesn't stop her.

However, once the distance between them is closed forever, they stand together but don't embrace.

There's awkwardness hanging heavy in the air and Yuki looks away, trying to compose herself. Yet somehow, she's not able to make that ecstatic smile or her deep blush go away and that makes Luka's own mouth twist ever so slightly.

"Let's go home now," she says and her sweet voice is bubbling with excitement as well as a little apprehension, "I'll protect you."

He hesitates to put his grimy and cut hand in the small, clean one she offers but once he does, it makes her beam even harder, if that's possible.

"They'll try to shield you," Luka says at last and follows her towards the towering mansion he can just barely make out in the distance, even with his vision, "By killing me."

Yuki turns back to shoot him a mischievous smile and as she does, the air around her begins to crackle with the sacred power he now knows as well as his own. She clenches and unclenches a hand experimentally and watches gold light play over her slender fingers.

"They won't touch you," she declares and sends a dazzling flash of victorious light into the sky that summons the daylight one last time.

She was absolutely right.

XXX

"What is your aesthetic, Zess san?" the elderly steward enquires, holding open the door to his room and Luka tries to ignore the way the man's voice wobbles in badly concealed fear.

"My what?" He asks flatly and the man practically cowers.

"He will decide later," the girl interjects and frowns inside the room, "And what is the meaning of this?! Isn't there any appropriate accommodation for Luka?"

"I'll return as soon as I talk to the elders," the steward says and dismisses himself in a hurry.

"He gives you a shed that's not even fit for a servant and has the audacity to ask for an aesthetic?" Yuki fumes.

"What is an aesthetic?" Luka asks instead and looks around. It's small and sparsely furnished, tiled with rough stone. There's a slim cot for him under a window with intact but old curtains. The dimly lit bathroom is attached to it and there's an open closet for his belongings as well as a worn writing desk.

"It's philosophy or something of the sort," Yuki says and embarrassedly wipes a shelf with her sleeve until it shines, "A stylistic preference of yours or related themes and motifs that appeal to you."

"I've never come across such a thing before," the Duras admits and tightens his jaw. He gently but firmly pulls the girl away to stop her frantic cleaning.

"It's ridiculous," she assures him, ignoring his gesture and then proceeds to ferociously blow on some grimy books the previous occupant has left behind, "We're in a war and things like this aren't important anymore. If you asked Hotsuma kun for his aesthetic, he'd probably punch you and say that was it."

She slaps at the mattress next. There's a small rising cloud of dust that dissipates in the morning light. Her jaw falls open.

"This is more than I've ever had to myself before," Luka says before she can launch into a tirade or begin furiously crusading for his rights.

"That doesn't make it acceptable!" she exclaims and there's hurt in her eyes now, "It's not fair! You've given up everything you had to be here because of me and you don't even get a proper room…."

She falls silent and sits down carefully on the unmade bed before looking up at him miserably.

"Join me?" she asks and he sits down at a formal distance from her. She grimaces but doesn't pursue it. This time.

"Takashiro or whatever his name was," Luka begins, "He said that some of the more orthodox elders refused to accept me into the household itself. This was the best he could do."

"There must be something I can do," Yuki protests, "I'm not the Light of God for nothing!"

She scowls at the floor for a while but then brightens up again as an idea strikes.

"I know!" she says and grins, "I'll visit you all the time, Luka! That way, they'll have to move you to a nicer room."

Luka allows himself a smile at that but she isn't done.

"Although I don't see why you can't share with me," Yuki goes on, "After all, I dragged you here and my room is big enough for a whole audience. In fact, I'm going to ask Takashiro san right now!"

Luka tries to grab the girl's arm but she's too fast and more or less flies out of the room before he can even get up.

Much to her chagrin (and his considerable relief), her proposal was rejected.

XXX

Takashiro Giou is Luka's only supporter and advocate before a council of war headed by contemptuous old men who can't even stand to be seated in the same room as him, but this alliance comes with a price.

Luka is sent out on mission after mission to gather information, recruit soldiers, identify spies and kill other Opasts. He comes to understand that the only reason Takashiro approves of the Light of God associating with someone like him is because the older man can subtly dangle her in front of him like a prize.

She's in his reach now, as he returns from the latest operation.

Holding a weeping candle in one hand and a stained scrap of cloth in the other, Yuki waits for him outside his room, looking absolutely remorseful as she sniffles into the fabric, her eyes swollen.

"What happened to you?" Luka demands, pulling off his cloak and quickly leading her inside to sit.

"I'm just tired," she says, dropping into his chair and he sees how her worried eyes scan him for injuries or marks, "I healed Shuusei san's fever and some small internal injuries because he needed to go on a new mission. Did you just return from your own?"

"Yes," Luka says and notices how her eyes linger curiously on his shoulder, "That's Sodom, by the way."

He extricates the quivering retainer from where he's curled up on near his neck and drops him on Yuki's lap unceremoniously. The creature opens his little eyes and makes a small whine.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sodom," Yuki says courteously and offers a finger to the black creature, "I hope you're both all right."

"It was a routine assignment," Luka replies, "Nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"Your sword is stained with blood."

"A few pesky mid villains," he clarifies.

She moves her head to sneeze. Her body pitched forward by the force of it and she makes a pained face.

"Is it hard for you?" She asks then, before he can bring up her condition again, "To kill other Duras or Opasts?"

"I never considered myself one of them," he says tonelessly, turning to deposit his sword against the wall but the truth is yes, it does bother him. His victim had in reality been an Opast like himself and in doing so, Luka had fully completed the betrayal and sealed himself to Yuki for the rest of his life.

"You should rest," Luka decides at last and turns around to face the expectant girl, "I'll take you back-"

Yuki is slumped in his chair, unconscious, with blood streaming from her nose.

Sodom trembles in fear under her stilled hand.

XXX

During the first funeral, for Tsukumo, Yuki walks over to the other Zweilt who stand together, nearly muted by shock and sorrow. They're like statues amongst the chanting priests, solemn elders and wailing servants. She hugs each one carefully and knows just the right words to whisper, though they haven't met in months. She does it carefully and they don't realize it just then, her drawing a little bit of pain from each person and secreting it in her own heart.

She holds Toko the longest, until the older girl isn't in danger of falling to her knees anymore and can lean on the others for support.

Luka isn't allowed inside and watches them from a high distance, as the body is burned, the rituals are done and everyone leaves.

That night, he listens outside her door as she fills herself a deep bath and cries under the water, shedding everyone's tears, in the hope that no one else will hear her.

XXX

He feels some part of his former self rise from the darkness and is possessed with an urge to murder someone when a particularly daring servant pokes him awake in the middle of the night and tells him that an emergency meeting has been declared by an elder for everyone in the household and that Takashiro has sent orders-

"What?" Yuki demands, alarmed but totally disoriented, bolting up from beside him and the servant nearly jumps out his own skin.

"Yuuzuki sama! What are you doing in his-?"

"Leave," Luka snarls at him and Yuki rubs her eyes in a futile attempt to wake up as the man goes fleeing for his life.

"They can never stop calling me 'sama'," she says wistfully, "Is 'Yuki san' really so hard?"

"Take this," he says and passes her one of his own shirts as he hurriedly dresses himself but the girl shakes her head indignantly.

"If it's an emergency, they shouldn't care what I look like," Yuki declares and slides into her dainty slippers, "And I'm already dressed!"

She's wearing a rumpled night frock that doesn't even reach her knees and Luka decides that he doesn't want to argue the point.

He can't kill the servants in this world and now knows all too well what the next emergency meeting is going to be about.

XXX

Yuki has a love for long gowns, elaborate hair styles, intricate kimonos and Toko and Lia are only too happy to indulge her whims during the rare hours when they're allowed to meet. She keeps what they gift her undisturbed for as long as possible and this particular occasion, insists on hiking with him to some old ruins despite wearing a pristine white dress that pools around her feet like water.

"I can fix tears and what not easily," Yuki tells him as she scampers over a few jagged rocks and tries to find a good place to sit, "I'm just not going to use my power on it right now."

She almost falls but catches her step in time before he has to intervene. The familiar clumsiness makes him smile and he waits till she's settled comfortably.

He then joins her in one swift leap but instead of sitting down the way she does, he finds himself unable to move.

The rocky lip they're on overlooks an ancient temple below in the middle of a lake below. The monument has been almost totally shattered through the ravages of time and war. Still, weeds and creepers have made their twisted homes on its sunken pillars that jut out of the cerulean water and he can see the ancient stone quivering underneath the surface. There's a gasp of air every now and then as a fat fish emerges emerges but there's no other sound except for the rustling of an infinite leaves on their trees and gentle splashing of the waves

"I'll stand," he says simply and she smiles knowingly.

XXX

From his point of view, it's a horrific disease; this power of hers that takes on the pain of others. Yet, he finds himself loving her more because of it, and loathing the way each incident steals away a little more of her from him.

And there's the unspoken question everyone else in this war avoids.

Who would be there to take Yuki's pain away?

"You're unhappy," Luka states when he sees her slouched over sheets of paper and struggling to choose a soft colored stick of charcoal for her latest piece.

She flashes him a wan smile and picks up one that's speckled silver. He realizes Yuki is drawing the moon outside her window when she throws a quick glance at the sky.

It's really not a good likeness.

"What do you do when you're unhappy, Luka?" She asks and tries to shade in a few empty spaces.

"I'm not unhappy," Luka says, "I have you."

Not for long.

Neither of them say it aloud but both of them think it.

"I find that when I'm unhappy," Yuki continues on a sigh, "The best thing to do is devote myself to activities that require less effort than my normal pursuits, but have greater and more noticeable results, even if they're not considered worthwhile."

She holds up her picture and sighs again, before rolling it up into a ball and throwing it into the fire in dissatisfaction.

"That's why I'm also growing my hair," she explains and stretches out, her face contorting as she does. Luka sits down beside her and pulls her thin legs to rest over his.

"You should find something like that too," Yuki explains and wriggles her toes, "To take your mind away from any sadness you have inside."

"Such as?"

She shrugs, "Fashion, perhaps. Experimenting with food. Luxury. Adventuring. Fencing. Riding. Anything you desire. A pastime for when we're not at war."

"I'll try," Luka says and reaches forward to inspect one of the charcoal sticks. It leaves a powdery blue smear on his fingers and he rubs it curiously.

"I want to do something else," Yuki says, picking up a black stick and resting a new sheet of paper on her chipped board, "Describe something to me and I'll try to draw it."

"I don't know to speak in so much detail," he admits, playing with a lock of her hair and letting it slip through his fingers.

"I'm not much of an artist either," she says, "But maybe we can work together to create something different."

"And is that our aesthetic?" Luka asks when she leans her feverish head against his shoulder. He holds her steady.

"Our very own," Yuki replies with a smile.

XXX

The madness comes so slowly that it almost hides itself from him.

Luka is used to fast enemies, those who can outstrip even lightning and as a result, he is trained to be vigilant and ever ready to fight.

A quiet entrance is something that always catches him off guard.

He notices the crescent shaped red rings that stand out on Yuki's arms during breakfast and as soon as the shared meal ends, he pulls her aside and into a quiet corner.

"Who did this to you?" he asks and looking at them closer, his worst suspicions are confirmed.

Bite marks.

Raw, swollen and with badly formed clots.

"Was it him?" he demands and Yuki frantically shakes her head.

"No, no!" she says and pulls herself free, "Sairi would never-!"

"Yuki?"

A soft, concerned voice. They both turn to see the object of their conversation waiting at the end of the corridor.

"Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, Sairi san," Yuki calls out and smiles at the older boy, "We're just talking."

He shoots Luka a murderous look, but finally nods and leaves.

"What happened?" Luka asks and the girl bows her head as if unable to meet his eyes anymore, "Who did this?"

"I think I did," she confesses and holds out her arms to him, the way she did when he first came home with her, "It'll be over soon, Luka."

"What will?"

She bites her lip but says it at last.

"My life."

XXX

He speaks to Time itself.

It's something dead that can't hear his desperate pleas for it to slow down and stop, but with the defiance of someone alive, it keeps moving away from him and towards a destination no one can fathom.

A flying corpse.

Tears don't come to him, haven't come to him since he was a child, but he can physically feel his heart being ripped in every direction at once.

Yuki is sometimes awake and aware of her surroundings. She holds his hand even as she eats but their conversations are no longer about contrasting cultures, the ways of this world or loving reassurances. She's harried and anxious and one afternoon, they make the covenant.

Those are the better memories.

As time runs on, she's reduced to a screaming mass of legs and arms that refuse to stop thrashing and through her sobs, says the most chilling things he's ever heard from a human mouth.

The Zweilt keep dying, nonetheless. In the midst of hurriedly arranged funerals and divinations, Yuki is taken away for a few days for her reincarnation ceremony. That is when he understands that their war will not end during this lifetime.

And one night, Luka makes a choice.

XXX

Demons have always been known for carrying away beautiful girls.

He finds himself unable to break away from that destiny.

Luka picks up the unconscious girl, still in her crumpled wrappers and blankets and supports her fragile weight with one arm. Suddenly against his hard shoulder instead of her soft pillows, she protests with a whimper but thankfully stays unconscious. Luka seizes his sword with his free hand and then proceeds to leave the room behind them forever.

The walk through deathly silent mansion is a terrible one and Luka can still feel the spirits of the dead Zweilt, lingering for a few precious days before they're hurled into the limbo before their new lives. The fireplace is abandoned and without the cheerful, crackling hearth he's become used to, the frigid winds permeate the whole chamber.

The once magnificent door waits at the end of the murky corridor ahead and Luka hears the sound of rain beyond it.

The familiar rush of alarm in his blood-

He's able to angle his sword just in time, and it slams against the blade of Hotsuma's own divine weapon that's been summoned out of nowhere. In the dark, all Luka can see are his smouldering eyes.

Yuki doesn't even stir.

"What are you doing?" the boy snarls, tightening his hold on thing, "Put her down. I'll kill you if you so much as-"

"Leave him."

They both start at the sound of the voice and suddenly, Hotsuma is just an indignant boy in his nightclothes, brandishing a sword that's too big for his slim frame.

Takashiro stands at the end of the corridor with a frown.

"You bastard, what the hell are you playing-?"

"Enough," the man orders, his voice sharp, "Hotsuma, stand down. I will handle this."

"He's taking her away to God-know-where in the middle of the night!"

"Hotsuma," he repeats calmly, "Stand down."

There's something ominous in his tone that forces him to reluctantly pull away from his stance and then the sword is gone as instantaneously as it appeared. Once upon a time, the other boy, the one with the darker hair would have exasperatedly pulled his erratic partner back to the bedroom and soothed his distress in private but not anymore. Hotsuma just stands there watching warily, defeated and alone.

"Zess," Takashiro says simply and Luka pulls the still sleeping Yuki closer to himself as he shifts his hold to aim his weapon at the man instead, bracing himself for the formidable assault that is sure to be unleashed-

Takashiro opens the door slightly, revealing the stormy world outside and waits.

"Take care of her," is all he tells the demon and for the first time in his existence, Luka feels paralyzing fear.

XXX

With every step he travels with Yuki snuggled in her warm blankets under the overcast morning clouds, she becomes chilled and heavy and finally, unable to support her any longer, he lets himself collapse to the ground.

They sit like that for a while in silence; her asleep in his lap and he idly running his hands through her tangled hair. It finally dawns upon Luka that sometime during his desperate escape, the young woman he was saving has become a corpse.

He stands up once more and bearing the body with a gentleness he never knew he had, begins the long walk back to a place he can no longer call 'home'.

XXX

Luka learns that there is a kinder word for betrayal.

Defection.

It insinuates a choice; the choice to move to the enemy camp because of an ideological difference.

Betrayal is nothing more than a filthy sin.

He is nothing more than a grain of sand that has traveled a Universe in the shape of an unforgiving hourglass. He was forced from the dizzying height of his old life into the bottle-neck of a place between the two dimensions and there, pressed in from all sides and nearly suffocating from his own terror and doubt and uncertainty, a soldier to no one but himself…

…He was free.  
Before Luka could relish that strange feeling for even a heart beat, he was free falling into the new world that waited for him below.

He remembers that journey now, as he waits. Caught in the transit of a cataclysmic battle put on hold, he's nothing more than a detached spectator behind a rainy window. There, Luka lifelessly watches days turn into months that turn into years that finally become centuries.

Nobody ever understood how much betrayal wounded the betrayer as well.

Nobody wanted to.

XXX

A lifetime later, Takashiro is the first to tell him about the boy who's been born and dropped in front of an orphanage and Luka doesn't understand.

"In our world," the man patiently explains, "When a child doesn't have parents, he or she is sent to a place with other such children to be nurtured and cared for till adulthood."

Luka still regards the human world with ambivalence, taking merely what he needs from it and nothing more, but moments like these threaten to unbalance him.

Takashiro, on the other hand, adores the new world. He's suave, adaptable, delighted by progress and seizes as much of its wonders as he can, but all the while hoping for a way to use it in their battle. The other Zweilt are mere infants themselves and the leisure time Takashiro has because of this lets him plan and coordinate a countless different schemes for their uncertain future in peace.

He prods Luka to drive, to try out different cuisines, to travel on his own, leave behind the archaic ways of the last battle's lifetime and throw himself into this life instead.

The demon finally gives in.

"I find that when I'm unhappy, the best thing to do is devote myself to activities that require less effort than my normal pursuits, but have greater and more noticeable results, even if they're not considered worthwhile."

He learns what it means to live and the true meaning of unlimited freedom each and every day.

Sometimes, he needs to pick up his sword and silence the few disrupting cries that echo from that other world, but now he doesn't care anymore.

Other times, he watches a small, fair haired infant stumbling through a new life, untouched by pain. He's loved by all and lives almost content without the burden of the upcoming battle on his body.

In transit.

The inhuman pain is still there, but the small and infinite little pleasures that this life surprises him with begins to wipe that away.

He faintly hopes that one day, when he finally meets the solemn and gentle boy, they can at least be companions in a life with less pain than before.

And just for the hope of such a world, he'll stay and fight.

 **THE END.**

 **XXX**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **Uraboku is a series I adore for the wonderfully vibrant cast, the beautiful Gothic vibe and the convoluted past life romance of Luka and Yuki that's only given to us readers in glimpses. Yet, what I see is a pure and chaste love between a tormented young man and woman who would do anything for each other in a time of war.**

 **The anime, in my opinion, was artful and pretty, but it took Luka's character and reduced him to a lovestruck and brooding demon where 70% of his dialogue is simply 'Yuki' in varying tones. The Luka of the manga is conflicted, traumatized by his past, confused by love and often misunderstood but has a lighter side that shows in his cynicism as well as a zest for human experiences like showers, junk food, strange fashion and his odd sense of flamboyance.**

 **I apologize for any mistakes in this fic; I currently have a terrible throat and ear infection that's quite distracting so please feel free to offer suggestions to help me make this better. I'll probably fix everything once again after I recover.**

 **Comment, Criticize, drop me a line, chat me up or just say hi…..All in the Reviews! Thank you!**


End file.
